Morning Routine
by EyeoftheAuthoress
Summary: One shot. Lazy early morning for Tars Tarkas with a royal pain in the way of a Red Man. Will remain complete until/if inspirations strikes for more chapters. Rated K for mild curses.


_A/N: One-shot, possible continuation. Every time I see that movie, it makes me want to write more of this, so maybe the next time I do, more will be written. XD  
I did only limited research into the JC fandom of the novels and of the movie. I support the movie more than its predecessor novels, just because it's what got me to love John Carter. So any mistakes in canon/fanon here I blame three things: my own lazy ignorance, lack of interest in finding every single possible detail first, and muse for making me write this before sufficient logical prep._

_So yeah. Hope any readers enjoy~! X3_

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Good, cool morning air filled Tars Tarkas's three lungs. The moons were still in the sky together. The Horde was content for the first time in centuries. Life was pleasant again.

There was only one problem. They were missing their rightful Jeddak. Tars had done a superlative job for years in Dotar Sojat's stead. He'd been Jeddak before anyway. It wasn't as though the Horde was suffering. But they missed their red-blooded leader. He was a legend.

Tars stretched out his double set of arms, cracking his stiff vertebrae. A twinge in his back told him that there would be even colder days ahead. His war wounds always ached in impending coolness. He started strolling down the Thark streets of Helium.

No, Thark's wanted for nothing anymore. They were equal to the little red wor-rather, Heliumites and Zodangans now. The many other Barsoom societies still had difficulty accepting their peace, and others were even hostile at the mention. Tharks and the red-men had been sending good will ambassadors for the last decade to abate their boiling hostilities, and it had been working for some. But still... There was always a shadow of another war that niggled at Tars. It could happen. And it probably would.

Tars came in line-of-sight of the Qui's tower. His face became somber. Tharks were definitely not the ones suffering because Virginia had disappeared. Deja had retreated within herself. She was always listless when Tars talked with her, like a half of her was missing. She was a very strong woman, but Tars knew Virginia completed the strength that she couldn't have. A far off look in her eyes was always present, wandering the sands, clouds, and stars. Tars knew she was looking for Virginia. Everyone did. The man had been gone for ten years now, but she never stopped looking.

Many suspected foulplay in Jeddak Dotar Sojat's untimely disappearance. Tars believed the evidence more than the rumors permeating every mutter he heard. Woola wasn't exactly evidence, but he'd had a great deal of green blood on his mouth and on the royal's balcony. Only Thern's had such blood. And after Tars was made to understand the gates of Iss were planetary bridges Therns used, there was hardly a doubt that Virginia had been unwillingly sent away. Away from Barsoom, and away from his wife.

In the short time Tars had seen their love, he knew it would be one that would last. It reminded him so much of his own bonding. Yes, he'd actually gotten so moved that he shed a tear, but it was a minor detail best forgotten.

Gritting his horned jaw, Tars exhaled shortly. He hated how this aspect had played out. Barsoom needed its savior, but Tars had more compassion for the Qui. She needed him now, more than ever.

"Wonderful morning for a stroll," blurted a grating voice off to Tars' left.

The Thark rolled his small eyes to look down at the little red man Bitho Kan. The boy may have had royal relative, but it made him no less annoying a scribe. "What do _you_want?" growled Tars as he increased his pace.

"What? I simply was pointing out the weather? What's controversial about that?"

"When it comes to you, _everything_," replied Tars without looking back.

"Oooh, hostile, hostile, sir Jed," chided Bitho, using Tars' rank. "Getting restless after playing the steward of the throne for ten years?"

Tars ignored him. He figured if he didn't encourage the little brat-

Bitho stepped in Tars' way, stopping him in the narrow walkway. "Isn't it about time that you accept the fact that your Jeddak isn't coming home?"

Tars simply glared daggers at Bitho. "Move. Now."

"Isn't it about time that Tharks, along with Helium and Zodanga, just accept the reality that he was just a sham? A part of the Therns in an elaborate scheme to-"

"Boy, if you don't move and stop bringing the same damned thing up, I swear to Issus, I'm feeding you to the next wild banth I see."

That quieted Bitho considerably. He looked a tad uncertain, but then he sneered. "You wouldn't dare. Emperor Kantos is my uncle, my blood. And what makes you so bold as to call me boy? I haven't been a boy for thirty years."

Tars was about to make good on his threat anyway just for the boy's irritation of existence. But he held his temper. Pushing roughly past Bitho, he kept walking. "And I'm 673. Your argument is invalid."

He could hear Bitho brushing off his clothes from being shoved to the dusty wall. "I'll find out the real truth of history, Tarkas. I won't stop until I do," he called after the Thark.

Boiling from the annoyance so early in the morning, Tars stalked the streets and walkways for a good while before he could calm down. Conspiracy theorists were _such_a joy. Tars hated anyone who whispered negative things about Dotar Sojat. It was pure, direct insult to the man's good name. Bitho didn't understand this at all. Yet.

Reaching the Bridge of Canyons, Tars finally slowed his pace again. Open air greeted him invitingly. He inhaled it slowly, savoring it. Sometimes he missed Thark. It was simpler. Harder, but simpler in the prospect of intellectual pursuits. He scanned the horizon before turning to continue on his early morning walk.

A flicker of blue happened in the corner of Tars' vision. He looked back and saw it again on the hills outside Helium. He squinted, trying to see detail from three haads away. He took out his scope to get a better look. But it was pointless in the early morning darkness.

Lowering his scope, he committed the spot to memory. It was probably nothing, or maybe just a few adolescent Red Men causing trouble. Even so, he planned to check it out later. Maybe he'd take Sola with him... Yes, it would be good to spend some time together with her again. She'd been so busy lately with a new method of Thark cartography...

Turning back to his walk, he forgot about the instance for the time being. His musings took him elsewhere, wandering matters supreme and minor.

Across the expanse of canyon in the Slirin Hills Tars had seen the flash, there were not adolescents. There wasn't nothing. But a body of someone that many from the Sao Fan War would recognize in an instance lay silently in the sands...


End file.
